Never Trust the Living
by katyfaise
Summary: Eponine wonders, day in and day out, how she got roped up into this sort of life. Because vampires, witches, werewolves are almost too much for her to handle - but sometimes it's the humans that really get her down.
1. Chapter 1

_Monday 9 AM_

He walked into the foyer, cold air already enveloping him from every angle. Enjolras shook for a moment, ridding his body of the chills, before he slipped through the double doors into the office.

"Morning, Courfeyrac," he called, sitting one of the coffee cups he held on the desk for the other man to immediately grab as he stepped out from the back.

"Wow - haven't seen you in a while," Courfeyrac noted, sitting down in the plush leather chair behind his desk to sip his coffee. He seemed deep in thought for a moment, his mind wandering elsewhere. But soon he snapped to and picked a clipboard up from his desk.

"She came in this morning at around three. I figure that's why you're here, right? She's in four."

Enjolras simply nodded and pointed toward the door on the opposite side of the room - a sort of silent question for permission.

Courfeyrac nodded, waving his hand flippantly.

"Just don't cause so much commotion like last time. I don't need anyone passing by sticking their nose into this… business."

Enjolras nodded again and turned before pausing.

"Thanks for calling me, Courf," the blonde said before he strode through the door with the distinct sign above - _Morgue_.

The stainless steel and antiseptic smell always overwhelmed him, and this time was no different. The door swung closed behind him with a heavy thud and his heart dropped - he was very slowly growing used to the drop in temperature. He took a moment to look around - a ritual he always found that calmed him in some way. It wasn't as if morgues were unfamiliar territory, not with his career path. But Enjolras had always felt a sense of unease around him and he had never quite been able to shake it.

After a deep sigh, he moved to the slab marked four and opened the door. Enjolras grunted as he pulled the slab out and he frowned at the sight in front of him.

The body laid still, zipped into an opaque plastic wrapping.

_She was going to be so pissed_.

Enjolras quickly pulled the zipper back and stared down at the young woman who laid there. She looked peaceful and at rest - two words that hardly ever described Eponine Jondrette.

He hesitated as he stood beside her and any passerby would possibly see him mourning but Enjolras checked his watch, the second hand ticking away reliably.

"Three, two, one-"

"Goddamnit!" Eponine screamed, immediately shooting up from the slab. She rubbed the back of her head, a slew of animated words leaving her lips. When she finally grew quiet, she looked over at Enjolras and smirked.

"What? No kiss from Prince Charming?"

Enjolras rolled his eyes and turned, heading back to the entrance.

"Tell Courfeyrac thank you," he called out, pushing the door open.

"Nice to see you too!" Eponine called after him.

It was going to be a long week.

_Tuesday 7 AM_

She took that day off, preferring to spend time lounging around her apartment with Sir Percival - the cat she had adopted under strain from Feuilly.

But it was Tuesday and Eponine had discovered that most crime happened on Tuesdays (there was actually no truth to that and it tended to change whenever she felt like it). She made her way to the cramped, closet that she called an office earlier than usual. Grantaire was nowhere to be seen - not a surprise at all, but the office was relatively clean and organized - definitely a surprise.

Eponine put on a pot of coffee and sat down to check her email while she listened to the drip drop of the dark liquid fill the glass pot. Spam filled her inbox - advertising diet pills and penis pumps, and Eponine deleted each of them. When the message from a familiar address showed up, Eponine immediately opened it and grabbed her glasses (conveniently _not_ buried amongst paperwork on her desk for once) and slipped them on her face.

_Your office was despicable. How do you even get anything done in that mess? I put all of your things away and you're welcome. I have a case to discuss with you. Musain at noon?_

_~E_

She blanched - of course it had been Enjolras who had taken it upon himself to clean her office. She rolled her eyes and stood up to get coffee and when a little spilled onto the stand and she dropped some sugar she didn't even bother to clean up after herself.

_Tuesday 12:30 PM_

When twelve thirty rolled around, Enjolras was almost considering leaving the cafe but as soon as he had made his mind up, Eponine walked in and immediately ordered a salad and lemonade. She sat down across from him, her face solemn but eyes shining behind her glasses.

"You're late," he said by way of greeting.

"Oh wow Eponine, you look great for having just been shot in the back of the head and declared dead two days ago. By the way thanks for finding the guy who killed all those women since my police force was so utterly lost," Eponine deadpanned, her shining eyes turning sharp.

"How are you feeling?"

Eponine looked up at Enjolras, his face softer now. "I'm fine. You know it takes me a few days to get adjusted," she muttered.

Enjolras nodded curtly and leaned over to grab his briefcase from the floor. He sat it on the table and opened it, pulling out two envelopes - one small and stuffed to the brim and one thin.

"Here's your normal fee. The police station, as always, appreciates your help," Enjolras said, his voice professional as he handed over the stuffed envelope. Eponine nearly snatched it from his hands in excitement and she opened the flap, careful to remain secretive as she counted out the bills inside. With a smile on her lips, she dropped it into the purse that hung on her chair.

As Enjolras put his briefcase back on the floor, a waitress came to drop Eponine's salad off and he watched silently as she began to devour it, barely taking a breath.

"You were always so hungry after… well you know," he said quietly, nervously toying with the flap on the envelope he held. Eponine looked up, a piece of lettuce hanging from her mouth. She smiled softly and sat her fork down.

"You took me for ice cream once, remember? I think I ate a whole tub of rocky road myself," Eponine noted. She could see Enjolras's hands tense - the already pale skin growing even whiter as he squeezed the envelope.

"Eponine, please…"

She waved a hand to dismiss the thought and picked the fork back up. "Don't worry about it. I know how you feel about nostalgia."

Enjolras sighed but quickly composed himself enough to open the envelope and pull out a single folder.

"This boy was found washed up on the west bank yesterday. It seemed like a normal suicide until we realized he was drained of all of his blood. No marks except for what looked like needle sites on his neck and thighs. It fits the MO of four other open cases in the past two months." He slid the folder toward Eponine and the image of a young man stared up at her, his dark eyes almost void like. "You know what I'm thinking right?"

Eponine took a drink and nodded.

"Those goddamn vampires," she said. "You know I can't stand dealing with them. They're so… dramatic."

"Well what am I supposed to do, Eponine? I can't go to my guys and tell them to be on the lookout for Dracula, now can I?"

His voice was a harsh whisper, even though Eponine could hear him just fine.

"Fine, fine, I'll see what I can find out. I'll pay a visit to Montparnasse this evening."

"Montparnasse? You still talk to that goon?"

Eponine raised a brow as she gathered her things. "Yes. He's the best source I have on that side of town."

"I don't like you talking to him. He's bad news," Enjolras said simply, sliding the folder back toward him.

"Well I guess it's good you don't get to worry about who I talk to anymore," Eponine snapped as she snatched the folder from his hands. She left a crumbled ten on the table for her lunch and after slinging her bag on her shoulder, left the cafe - leaving behind a near fuming police detective.

_Tuesday 1:47 PM_

Eponine Thenardier, now Jondrette, was seventeen when she figured out that she was different from everyone else. She woke up in a cold, dark space after being the victim in a brutal hit and run and screamed for hours until she was pulled out by a curly haired, kind eyed, and probably had just shit in his pants coroner.

Armand Courfeyrac had become her first confidant - one she had kept very close since then.

With her new life, she had discovered many others that existed in a realm that was hidden from regular people; the same people she had once associated with. Eponine found more like herself; women and men that could survive even the most gruesome of killings. She'd gone even deeper to discover vampires, werewolves, fairies, witches, and so many more creatures that Eponine had made a list years ago. It was when she discovered she had a knack for digging more things up than bodies that she decided to go into private investigation. That had been over five years ago and since then she had formed a professional (and far too personal) relationship with the head detective of the police force, Sebastien Enjolras. It was strictly regular crimes at first - one that she'd gotten dragged into thanks to a woman hiring her to photograph a cheating spouse that ended up dead. When the supernatural had been brought up Enjolras had believed her; a new feeling for the doubting Eponine. It was after they started sleeping together that she told him her own secret and in the end that had been what drove them apart.

At least it's what Eponine blamed their breakup on.

These thoughts flitted through her mind as she entered her office again, the sounds of afternoon radio filling her ears.

"I see you finally showed up," Eponine said absently, strolling past Grantaire who sat at a smaller desk in the corner. He was there to answer phones and to take notes but he mostly spent time drinking the expensive coffee she bought from uptown. She could never find the right words to fire him though - not when she needed him around as much as she did (not that she'd ever admitted that). Not to mention she was in love with the service dog he used, a golden lab that went by the name Ferdinand.

"I couldn't hear my alarm this morning," Grantaire replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair to prop his legs on the desk.

"Did you set your alarm last night?"

"No. That's why I didn't hear it this morning."

Eponine had met Grantaire a year into her private firm after she got mixed up in a case involving one too many witches. Grantaire had immediately known she was immortal; something to do with the blindness he'd been born with and the way he could see things others couldn't, and Eponine had found a new friend. He agreed to work with her on the terms that he didn't actually have to do any work and Eponine had agreed far too quickly - it was a problem with being young and needing friends. Now she couldn't get rid of him (not that she really wanted to).

Ferdinand settled at Eponine's feet as she sat down to go through her mail, the new case still fresh on her mind.

"What did Prince Charming want?" Grantaire asked, fishing a flask from his coat pocket. He poured an unnamed liquid into his coffee and Eponine stared at him, quickly deciding not to question him.

"Did you read my email?" Eponine questioned, eyes still on the mail in her hands.

Grantaire scoffed. "Like I _need_ to read your email to know when you've talked to Enjolras. You're instantly on edge for hours afterwards."

"I am.. that's not —" Eponine stopped and sighed, tossing the various unpaid and overdue bills onto her desk. "He had a case. Vampires. Maybe… I don't know." She leaned over and rested her head in her hands, mumbling under her breath about supernatural creatures that shouldn't exist.

"Maybe you should take a vacation?" Grantaire offered.

"Just give me your flask."

_Tuesday 9 PM_

The city was alive as ever, cars honking and people rushing by to get to their first bar of the evening, as Eponine snuffed a cigarette out near an ATM machine. She inspected the plain storefront - neon lights burning and a balding man sitting down on the stoop with a hat in front of him. She dropped some change into the hat as she passed by and stepped through the glass doors. Eponine nodded at the little old lady behind the counter as she strolled by, navigating through the sparse aisles filled with snack foods. She snatched a bag of peanuts down and opened them, immediately popping a few into her mouth.

"You have to pay for that!" the lady called from up front, but Eponine continued toward the back, following the signs that pointed toward the employees only area. She disappeared into the dimly lit area and lingered in front of the wall between the restrooms. Eponine knocked three times on the cement and stepped back. When the block slid away, she glanced down at the small man whose face appeared.

"How can I help you, madam?"

"Aut viam inveniam aut faciam," Eponine repeated blandly, a bored tone in her voice.

The small man nodded and slid the cement block back into place. After a moment, the wall swung backwards and Eponine took a moment to get used to the pounding electro music that now filled the air.

"Goddamn vampires," she muttered under her breath as she lit a cigarette and stepped through the door.

* * *

Eponine rubbed her temples, the loud music already pounding a migraine into her head. She stopped to glance around for the familiar face of Montparnasse but when he was nowhere to be seen, Eponine made the move toward the bar. She leaned over the bar and when the bartender finally saw her she ordered a gin and tonic. When he finally returned to set the drink in front of her, Eponine perked up.

"Where's 'Parnasse?"

The bartender pointed toward a staircase in the corner and returned to the other customers. Eponine muttered her thanks and grabbed her drink, making her way through the crowds of various supernaturals that she preferred to keep her distance from. She slowly made her way up the stairs and when she reached the top she paused to look around.

In the middle of the room, Montparnasse sat on a lush couch, various young vampires circled around him as he rambled off some grand story of his death toll, which Eponine didn't doubt one bit. She cleared her throat and Montparansse looked up.

"What a surprise!" he called out, the devilish smirk taking place on his face.

"We need to have a talk," Eponine replied, eyes putting each face in the room to memory.

Montparnasse sighed dramatically and waved an arm dismissively.

"We will continue this later, my friends. Work calls," he continued, stretching his arms out over the top of the couch. "I haven't seen you in a long time, Miss Jondrette. Finally come crawling to good ole Montparnasse?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Dracula," Eponine muttered, using the nickname that Montparnasse hated (he was _ten times_ better than Dracula had ever been). She lingered near the large windows that lined the walls, staring out into the club beneath them. "A boy washed up. Around eighteen." Eponine sighed and turned her attention back to Montparnasse. "He was drained dry, 'Parnasse. Enjol — The police, found marks. I'm told they're similar to fangs."

Montparnasse stared at the ground, seemingly chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought.

"You got a picture of the kid?"

Eponine nodded and fished a poloroid out of her pocket. Montparnasse stood up and moved to stand beside her and take the photo. He looked at it for a moment, turning it over in his long fingers.

"I can't help you, Ep," he said finally.

"You can't or you _can't_?"

Montparnasse shook his head again, bright yellow eyes holding something back that Eponine couldn't quiet place.

"Sorry, old friend," Montparnasse shook his head and moved to pull Eponine into a tense and rather awkward hug. "Be careful, Eponine. This is bigger than you think," he whispered against her ear before he pushed her away, just as awkwardly as before. "It was good for you to drop by!"

Montparnasse's eyes quickly jumped to a camera in the corner of the room and Eponine looked up - understanding flooding her face.

"See you round, 'Parnasse," she muttered, leaving her drink sitting on the window ledge.

* * *

She stood outside the convenience store, new information turning over in her mind. Montparnasse had told her nothing about the dead kid, but he had piqued her interest in the case. The cogs in her mind worked overtime as she slipped into the alley between the store and a brownstone - hoping to avoid others as she took the long way back to her office. Eponine lit up, smoking more of a habit than something she depended on these days (it wasn't like it would kill her), and muttered to herself. The phone in her pocket buzzed to life and she stopped to pull it out.

_Anything? ~E_

Eponine ran her fingers over the screen and contemplated leaving him hanging for once, but she finally sighed and typed back a quick negative response. As she took off again, the heels of her boots clacking against the pavement, she couldn't help but feel the cold breeze through her hair. She immediately stopped short and took a drag from her cigarette.

"Look," she began, exhaling, "I don't have time for this shit tonight."

The shadows on the walls extended, meeting heavily booted feet belonging to two larger men holding bats.

"Pretty, pretty Eponine."

"Sticking that pretty nose where it don't belong."

"Babet. Clasquesous." Eponine nodded to each man respectively. "Is this necessary? I was _killed_ two days ago. I'm sure you heard."

"Sorry, dearie. We've got orders," Babet said, shrugging.

"Gotta teach ya to mind your own," Clasquesous added.

Eponine rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Will you two just mind the face? Unlike you two, I still have a chance in life."

"I always liked you, Ep. That sense of humor."

"Yeah. Always liked you too, Sous."

Eponine smirked, allowing the silence to build between the three of them. After another drag from the cigarette, she flicked it forward and immediately charged toward Babet, dodging the swing of his bat. Clasquesous tried to grab for her hair, but Eponine ducked, swinging a steel toed boot into his shin instead. The man cried out, cursing her name. Eponine smirked and lunged forward, pushing all of her energy and weight into Babet to take him to the ground. She pulled her arm back and then slammed a tightly coiled fist into Babet's cheek. He cried out and for a moment Eponine thought she had the upper hand at least until she remembered Clasquesous.

"Oh fuck."

It was the last thing she muttered before pain filled her head and the world went dark around her.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Tuesday 2 AM_**

There was a sweet escape in being dead.

Eponine didn't sleep well these days and while dead it's the best relaxation she can manage to get. But there are downfalls - one of which she found herself experiencing on a regular basis.

She leaned over the porcelain, feeling the coolness radiate off the pristinely cleaned toilet as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"What the fuck did they do to me?" she asked, voice ragged from the forty five minutes she'd spent puking. "Why did they bother to kill me at all? They know it won't do any good."

"I imagine they were trying to send you a message," Enjolras replied, joining her in the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the tub and handed over a cool rag which Eponine immediately grabbed. She leaned back against the wall, running the rag over her neck and forehead and cursing whatever had happened to make her this way.

"All they did was piss me off… How'd you find me?"

"Grantaire called - said he couldn't locate you with his," Enjolras paused to motion around his head for a moment, "head shit and that he was worried if you were dead he wouldn't get paid so I should probably look for you. They worked you over," he added, looking at the bruises on Eponine's face that were already yellowing and healing up. In a few hours she would look good as new, but he knew she'd feel the effects for days to come.

"I hate vamps. Fucking entitled pricks."

"Did Montparnasse help any?"

Eponine shook her head and held out her hand, allowing Enjolras to help her up from the floor.

"Not enough. But he did confirm that it's more than some random killing. He told me to be careful."

The two exited the bathroom and Enjolras headed straight for the kitchen to grab two mugs and fill them with coffee. When he made his way into the living room, he found Eponine sitting on the floor near the coffee table, his case files spread out over the surface.

"Those are confidential," he said pointedly as he handed over her mug. Eponine grunted in response and flipped through the pictures of the victim - the poor boy's eyes were still open and looked almost as if fear was frozen in them.

It gave her chills.

Silence fell over the two as they both buried their noses in the files, commenting only when needed. But after a bit, Eponine yawned and stretched her arms above her head. Enjolras looked at his wristwatch and let a groan slip from his lips.

"Shit. It's after three." He stood from the couch and disappeared into his bedroom for a short moment only to return with a pillow and blanket in his arms. "You can sleep in the bed. I'll camp out here on the couch."

She wasn't one to argue, especially not when it came to Enjolras's expensive mattress, so she immediately stood up and strolled past him. When she paused at the threshold though, she glanced back to Enjolras who was cleaning off the mess she'd made on the coffee table.

"You can't share a bed with me?" she asked quietly. Maybe it was from being dead twice in such a short period of time, or maybe it was because it was so late, but Eponine felt the hurt building in her chest. "We're supposed to be friends."

Enjolras looked up from the scattered files and managed a weak smile.

"_That's_ why I can't share a bed with you. Goodnight, Eponine."

She stared at him for just a second longer before nodding and entering his room, closing the door tight behind her. When she crawled into the bed, Eponine inhaled the scent of his aftershave and the same floral shampoo she had started buying him back when they actually shared the bed.

And maybe, for a moment, she allowed herself to cry into his 700 thread count pillowcases.

**_Tuesday 9 AM_**

Enjolras pushed the sleeping woman aside, muttering under his breath as he tried to wake her. When she finally groaned in response, he pulled the pillow from under her head, leaving Eponine to crash into the mattress.

"What's your deal?" she demanded, although her voice was marred by sleepiness.

"You sleep like the dead."

"I'm dead fifty percent of my life, it only makes sense."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and leaned over to dig through his nightstand, pulling out his badge and gun. "Get up and get ready. Boys found a new body. Same MO as the first one."

Eponine hopped from the bed quickly and moved into the bathroom to ready herself for the day. With a new body on the scene it was bound to be another long day in a string of long weeks.

**_Tuesday 11 AM_**

She stood at the edge of the crime scene, an old storage facility on the edge of town and smack dab in the middle of the worst part of the city. Enjolras had disappeared earlier, leaving her to sip on gas station coffee and wait until his superiors had cleared out.

"Hey, Ep!" a familiar voice called before she was enveloped by large arms and lifted straight off the ground.

"Bahorel!" she responded, smile coming to her lips. It had been months since she'd seen him and even longer since she'd enjoyed one of his large hugs. If he wasn't known for his various tattoos or the way he couldn't harm a fly she figured that there was no better way to identify Adrien Bahorel than by the way he warmed up to anyone almost instantly.

And warm was an understatement.

The police officer was a werewolf and he ran hot because of it. He came from a long clan of Irish wolves that had made their mark in the city generations before either of them were born. And although Bahorel had decided to live a normal human life for the sake of his girlfriend and the son they were raising, Eponine still found herself coming to him when things got a bit too supernatural for Enjolras to deal with.

"Enjolras says he's ready for 'ya. Took him long enough. All he did was run his mouth about 'possible leads' to the chief. We both know that's shite."

Eponine laughed, following after Bahorel as he led her to the crime scene. The two caught up briefly, chatting about Bahorel's family until they reached the yellow tape and he held it up for her to pass under. It was when they reached Enjolras that the tension rose and Bahorel bounced on the balls of his feet.

"I'm going to uh… I'll be over there," he muttered, excusing himself from the ex couple.

"Why do you make everything so strange?" Eponine asked, glaring at Enjolras.

"I didn't even say anything!"

Eponine bypassed him and strolled to the body that was covered with a sheet, lying motionless in the middle of the storage crate.

"The body's just like the last one," Enjolras pointed out, watching as Eponine pulled the sheet back to examine the corpse. It was a girl this time - pretty and blonde and definitely young. "She was drained dry. Marks on the inner thigh only."

"This is what? The sixth victim?" she asked, carefully looking over the girl for any details.

"Yes. And in fewer days this time. I think the killer might be trying to send us a message - he knows you're looking for him."

Eponine stood up and dug a cigarette from the pack in her jacket. With it lit between her teeth, she stared down at the girl whose life had been stolen from her so soon.

"We have to catch this guy," Eponine declared solemnly.

Enjolras nodded his agreement and took the cigarette from her lips, taking a drag on it himself before dropping it to the ground.

"Smoking will kill you."

"Don't get my hopes up, Enjolras."

**_Some time later_**

It's when she made her way into the building that housed her office did she realize that she didn't have her keys. Eponine couldn't help but curse under her breath, damning her bad luck to hell and back. She kneeled down and removed a pin from her hair and once she had straightened it out, Eponine inserted it into the lock. It took far longer than she would have liked - she really needed to work on her lock picking skills - but after jimmying it the right way the lock turned and Eponine stood up. "Thank God," she muttered, pushing the door open.

In almost slow motion, she saw the blunt object flying for her face and she ducked quickly, falling to the hard wood floor with more force than she intended. In defensive mode, Eponine rolled onto her back only to find herself staring up at Grantaire holding onto his walking stick for dear life.

"What the fuck are you doing!" she yelled, forcing her heart to stop beating uncontrollably.

"Oh thank God it's just you," he muttered, shoulders slumping with relief. He held a hand out for her and helped her to her feet before closing and locking the door behind him.

"Grantaire, what the hell is going on?" she asked, brushing her jacket free of dust.

He sighed and extended his stick, using it to feel as he navigated through the office. "I walked in on a break in. The jackass took advantage of me being blind and he was able to get away," he explained as he opened the door that led back toward their filing area. Papers and folders were thrown everywhere and even a cabinet had been tipped over. "I thought you might be him coming back."

Eponine immediately turned to Grantaire, looking him over for any injury she could see. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you."

Grantaire shook his head. "Just my ego is wounded. And my trust for Ferdinand. The son of a bitch just cowered in the corner. So much for a guard dog."

She stared at the mess and took a deep breath. "Come on, I can't look at this." Eponine lead Grantaire from the storage room, leaving the door cracked open behind them as they exited. When she reached her desk, she leaned over and rested her head against the cool wood.

"Did you have fun with lover boy last night?"

"If you count fun as being killed _again_ and then being reminded how completely fucked up we both are…"

"Sounds like a party."

"On top of it all, there's another body. And clearly this is going far deeper than anyone expected it to." Eponine hadn't expected to get involved in another case so soon after her last but now she was in too deep. And if Montparnasse was right then she had even further to go - a thought that worried her.

"Anything I can do to help?" Grantaire asked as he absently twirled his cane in his hand.

"Actually -"

"Oh come on, Eponine, you know I was just offering to be nice. I didn't _mean_it."

Eponine tossed a wadded sheet of paper at him that he caught mid air - a trick that still amazed her to this day. "Look, I got some hair from the victim. I want you to try and contact her."

"I am not some county fair psychic who does seances for skeptics, Eponine."

"Can you do it or not, R?"

"No. I see the future, I don't talk to the dead - which by the way, isn't as easy as you seem to think it is."

"How would you know if you don't do it, smartass?" Eponine shot back, pulling out the baggie of hair from her back pocket.

"Because I happen to know someone who does, smartass. Come on, maybe we won't catch her on a busy day."

—

"Why are we at the library?" Eponine asked as she and Grantaire climbed the stairs to the large building.

"Because maybe it's somewhere you'll actually shut up."

After a prompt punch in the arm, the two walked inside and were greeted by the overwhelming smell of old books. "Follow me," he said, allowing Ferdinand to lead him through the corridor and to a winding staircase. They made their way up the stairs and when they reached the second landing, Grantaire turned into narrow hallway.

It wasn't long before they reached the end and Grantaire knocked on a heavy oak door - S. Combeferre carved into the deep wood.

The door is opened by a tall, thin woman, dark skin nearly sparkling in the bright light behind the door.

"Grantaire, how good to see you," she greeted, skipping past formalities to hug the man. "And Ferdinand," she continued as she leaned to pet the dog.

"Simone Combeferre, this is Eponine Jondrette, the detective I work for, remember?"

The other woman stepped back, opening the door wider for them to enter the vast office. Once inside, Combeferre shook Eponine's hand with enthusiasm.

"Grantaire has told me about you. He says you're very good at what you do."

"He's actually said that?"

"Don't ruin my reputation, Simone," Grantaire muttered under his breath.

"What brings you two by?" Combeferre questioned, crossing her arms across her lithe figure.

Eponine looked to Grantaire but when the silence became awkward she took a step forward. "Grantaire tells me that you can help with contacting someone. Someone who isn't exactly… alive." She pulled the baggie of hair from her pocket and held it up for Combeferre to see. The other woman nodded slowly as she began to understand the situation.

Combeferre moved to her desk across the room and sat down in the grand leather chair behind. She turned to her phone and pressed a button - the room filled with a dial tone for a moment before a voice answered on the other end.

"Celeste, please cancel my appointments for the afternoon. Something terribly important has come up."

With the phone disconnected, she leaned forward, steepling her hands in front of her.

"I hope you know that contacting the dead isn't as easy as making a phone call."


End file.
